One Hundred Crowns
by Jonas Grant
Summary: The Eastern Fringe is notoriously barbaric, nations rise and fall daily, proud republics devolve into raiding bands, are exterminated by swords or rifles and fade from history forever. One man, shaped by the ancient wisdom of Sun Tzu, Confucius and Genghis Khan, in the shadow of one hundred warring crowns, sees the cornerstone of an empire to eclipse both Tau and Ultramar.
1. Riverborn

Submerged in the cold, coffee coloured waters of the Drezey river, one always felt isolated, entombed in this polluted sarcophagus. With a gravity of 0.36T, swimming on Wosun required more effort than on worlds with a gravity closer to 1T. This made underwater activity an excellent way of maintaining one's muscle mass and bones density. Rice farming, fishing and pearl diving were thus all vital aspects of the colony's economy.

To the children of Wosun, however, the important aspect of water on this colony was only realised once they broke the surface.

Leaping off the jetty, straight as arrows, they allowed themselves to sink as far as they dared, holding large stones in their hands and a buoyancy vest on their shoulders.

They went deep, until the sun was nothing but a pale halo above and their ears hurt, then they would release the rock and shoot upward, ears popping from the rapid changes in pressure, before exploding out of the water. For a few seconds, the laughing children knew flight. Surrounded by shining droplets, cheered by their friends on the shore.

One boy always went deeper than the others, holding tight until panic grabbed a hold of him. Those few frantic seconds invariably followed by elation as he soared high above the waves, further than any other, yet never high enough to peer over the palace walls across the river, into the courtyard where the Governor and his heirs trained every morning at dawn.

Fighting survival instinct and common sense, the boy, Oda, sank deeper, steeled himself and cleared his mind only to fail every time.

Oda came back every day from the age of eight, Drezey's cold bite seeping into his mind with every failed attempt.

Then, months before his twelfth birthday, the boy caught a speech from the governor over loudspeakers. Most of it meant nothing to him, mentions of distant battles, death of old foes, birth of new alliances. But the Governor ended his speech with a call for new recruits. He told his subjects "Death is pre-ordained, glory is not, it is yours to seize."

Nostrils pinched with a paperclip and a rag shoved in his mouth, he jumped once more. Oda did not let go. Not when blood filled his mouth, not when his left eardrum tore under the pressure. Only once his feet sank into the clay, his chest rattled by convulsions, did he let go.

He did not rise. The riverbed keeping him anchored at the bottom like seaweed. Darkness overtaking his mind, the boy felt no fear, only the single-minded determination of a cornered animal. He leaned over, convulsing and gasping in his gag, and with numb fingers dug two fistfulls of clay inches from his ankles. The bright yellow vest he wore did the rest of the work, ripping his dying body from the riverbed and shooting him towards the rising sun like an arrow.

When he opened his eyes, Oda was inside the palace's courtyard, drenched, but able to breathe. Three nobles leaned over him; a redhead boy in his teens, serious and scowling, an old man, bearded but bald, blind in one eye but smiling, and a middle aged man with a pony tail and braided beard, he looked perplex and close to anger.

Then his eyes met Oda's and the Governor's face lost all its venom. "Shimia." He whispered.

The redhead looked up, puzzled, "Father?"

Laughing, the Governor pulled Oda in closer, holding the boy in a warm embrace that seemed to concern the other child. "I would recognize those eyes anywhere. Kai," the governor said to his son, "This is Shimia Kuan's son. Your brother… What is your name, son?"

Kai stepped in, "Shimia Kuan led the rebellion, father, why would her son… What…"

The bald man shook his head and put a hand on Kai's shoulder, pulling him away. "You see, boy, when a man and a woman hate each other very much…"

Governor Jin Kué Lao helped his bastard son off the ground with a smile. Yes, this one undeniably had Shimia's wild spirit. "What became of your mother, son, where were you all these years?"

Oda worked his jaw back and forth, blood trickling down from his ears as he tried to clear out the water, to no avail. Noticing Jin's gaze on him, the boy blinked, frowned and then, loudly asked "What?!" before adding, "Why is everything so quiet?!"

Jin chuckled, "Let's get you to a medicae, boy, we can talk then." and he led the dazed child towards the palace.

"I'm actually eleven!"

"Yeh-ehp, I remember…" Jin helped Oda up the stairs, reminiscing those peace talks, a little over a decade ago, "Your mother knows how to leave marks…"

"What?!"

The palace's inner walls were paper thin, to let light through, and slid open at the Governor's passing.

"I said your mother really left her mark… on history." Gently, Jin guided Oda down a flight of stairs, towards his personal healer's quarters.

The boy gave his father a serious look, then said, "No you didn't!" fire in his eyes.

"No doubt here, young man, you are Shimia's..."

He tried to push Oda into the pure white room, but the boy resisted, grabbing onto the doorframe and yanking himself free from the man's hands "You lied!" he spat at the Governor.

"What?"

"You said she would be safe if she surrendered, that you would be together, I saw the letter!" Jin wanted to argue, to question, but with the boy deaf and angry, silence and patience appeared wiser.

"I saw her lay down her arms and kneel to your envoys, and they just shot her. They riddled her with las-shots until she was a pile of ashes!"

Jin frowned at the revelation, stroking his chin in deep thought. Oda waited, breathless in anger. Jin opened his mouth, as if to speak, but instead backhanded the boy into unconsciousness.

"Healer!" He barked into the room, "See that this child recovers all his faculties by tomorrow night!" The graying medicae came running from his chambers, across the office, a pair of naked blonds covering themselves as the door was flung open.

"Yes, sire, who…"

"He is nobody, your nephew, if you must explain to anyone…" Then, Jin froze and revised himself, "No, if anyone pries, have them killed. I will notify the Oshihei you are entitled to their services. The boy lives, or you die."

"Yes, sire."

Speaking into the collar of his longcoat, Jin marched away at a brisk pace. "I want Commander Kao in the council room at once…" Again, he stopped and corrected himself. "Belay that, have my wife's trip adjourned and bring her here, tonight."

"What of Commander Kao, sir?" Came the distorted response in his ear.

"He is not to be disturbed, by anyone… Anyone but my son Kai."


	2. Family

The first lady of Wosun was required to travel often, her station more than a symbolic one, she served as the chief ambassador for the governor, his voice in distant regions. Her staff was handpicked, devoted to her, be they personal guards, ambassadors or hair stylists, every member of the first lady's retinue was willing, and expected, to sacrifice themselves should she be threatened.

Bianka Kué Lao arrived at the palace late and confused. She sent for her son, but learned he was away on a classified assignment for his father, expected to report through vox channels and spend the night away from the palace.

She entered the council chamber to find her husband at his desk, without his guards, contemplating a crystalline signet ring, booted feet crossed on his desk.

The ring was partly made of steel, melting into the crystal to create what looked like mountain peaks and pine trees frozen in ice. Atop the crystal, the first lady's seal, a rose and quill crossing themselves over the complex and unique nanoscopic signature of house Kué Lao.

"Has there been an attack, Jin-dear? What is going on?" She froze, recognizing the ring he held. "Where did you…" She reached to her ring finger, finding an identical bague on it.

Jin noticed and forced a sad smile. "You know who it was meant for. I was… Optimistic that she would accept my offer. She found the title _second lady_ slightly… Demeaning, so I offered a compromise."

Bianka slowly strode up to her husband's desk, retinue in tow. "As is your right, my darling." She spoke, bristling with barely contained rage, "Clearly Shimia rejected you, so why bring her up now?"

Jin's eyes were cold as they settled on hers. He had always exhaled disappointment when he looked into his wife's eyes, but today, she only saw darkness in her husband. "She's back."

This hit the first lady like a kick in the guts. "Imp…" She stopped herself. "After all these years?"

Jin put the signet ring down and reached for a quill, still wet with ink. "I can see it in your eyes, woman, I needed to..." He swept the retinue with lazy eyes, then sneer. "Our son delivered Kao a letter. From you." He smiled, putting the quill down next to the signet ring. "Your lessons bore fruits, my handwriting has almost caught up to yours, beloved wife."

She stopped, halfway across the room. Twelve men and women soon surrounded her, lambs clustering around their shepherd, feeling the wolf's approach, but to dim to tell where from, or when it would strike..

Jin always wore a Kuan longcoat with the segmented chest piece and shoulder pads of a Kué Lao soldier, a fierce yet elegant style that made it difficult for his enemies to discern if he intended violence or diplomacy. Alone, slouched behind an oak desk in a room made out of paper, he indeed appeared as a wolf sizing up a herd of sheeps.

"What did you write?" She knew the answer, but played her husband's game.

"Don't you want to know his answer? Much shorter. Yes… One word. Yes…" He looked up from the quill and straight into his wife's eyes. The man looked torn, broken inside, but as calm as death. "Why? It wasn't love, we both know this. Shimia was a warrior, not a diplomat, all you stood to lose was a meaningless title…"

Backing further into her retinue, she simply breathed, "The governor cannot have a whore in his court, let alone in his bed…"

"On that, we agree…"Jin smiled, as he had that one time, when an assassin had drawn a sword against him, the gleeful grin of a predator that has spotted its prey.

"Well, lads!" He roared, leaping onto his desk, a long and narrow blade with a slight curve to it held in the left hand, along his leg. "Let's see if you're worth what I'm paying you!"

Blades and guns were drawn, but the men had positioned the riflemen at the back, where they could not fire without hitting their own.

Jin swept into the first three warriors shoulder first, swirling his sword at ankle height. Flesh and bones were easily cut into by the keen blade, which found its way over the governor's head in time to parry an overhead swing from the warrior on the left.

Kicking that one away, he wrapped the sword behind his shoulder and uncoiled like a trebuchet, at throat level, and, taking one hand off his sword the instant it hit the other man's blade, Jin pulled a stubber from his belt and fired twice into the soldier's chest.

The left hand side warrior charged just as a pair of accountants straight ahead did. Jin's blade whipped through the air inches from the last two's throats, halting their course, and caught the former in the helmet, bouncing off with enough force to knock him off balance and on all four.

The governor did not spare the man a glance, merely shooting him in the neck twice before facing the rest of the retinue head on. "Without strength of will, there is no strength of body. Any of you could have reached my level of skill, had you shown discipline." He swiftly beheaded one accountant and eviscerated another with one diagonal stroke. "You bring dishonor to your governor." One boy, the stylist, snapped his scissors in two parts and came at Jin with one in each hand.

Unskilled, but focused like only a true master could be, the boy, barely more than a teen, slashed at the throat, missing by a milimeter, then went for the femoral artery, only to be repelled by a knee to the face.

Unperturbed, the hairdresser came back, silent and focused. He went for the throat again, the chink in the governor's armour, ducked under a broad swipe of Jin's sword. He almost made it, but the governor's elbow blocked him at the wrist and the counter-strike spilled the boy's guts on the ebony floor. As life left the young man's eyes, Jin looked deep into them, easing him down to the ground, whispering "Your name will endure, son, and your descendants will honour you for generation. Rest now."

Two of them, Jin shot once in the midsection, their carapace armours too thick anywhere else. The third, he leapt onto and, in the second and a half he spent riding the soldier's face down, slashed open the fourth's throat.

Injured, the remaining soldiers managed to stand almost simultaneously, but could not take aim before Jin, throwing himself to the ground, picked up a discarded lasgun and riddled the both of them with smoking holes.

"Are you d…" Whatever admonishment his wife had in mind was cut short when a low intensity lasbolt took her in the throat. Followed by another in the chest, revealing seared bones and pulsating flesh.

He squeezed the trigger methodically, burning away the already dead woman's flesh an inch at a time, firing until the sun was up and Bianka was nothing but a pile of ashes.

At that point, he spoke into his coat's collar, "Have divorce papers brought to the council chamber, and the janitor. Oh, and notify the media I am now single… Also tell them I have another son, his name is… Actually, let me get back to you on that."

"Will that be all, sire?"

"Does Commander Koa have any family?"

"Two wives, three sons, one daughter, sire." Jin cringed, then sighed.

"Have them executed, then execute him, please."

"What shall the edict say?"

"The man was a cunt."

Phlegmatic as always, the regent took it in stride, "Quite, sire, but what crime should we condemn him for."

"Being such a huge cunt, I killed him over it." Jin insisted, trying his hardest to smile.

"Treason, then, sire?" The regent offered, as though it were a choice of tea.

"He killed her, killed Shimia, in front of her son, Shaun, lied to my face about it, conspired with my wife… Why? Why would they even do this?"

"Sire, as the most powerful man on the planet, there are things you simply are not equipped to understand."

Slumping back into his seat to once again look at Shimia's signet ring, Jin sighed, "Do you? Understand, I mean."

"Yes, sire; because they were cunts."


	3. Wolf's House

Oda awoke to a cord instrument rattling behind a paper wall to the left and the smell of burnt meat. The scent nauseated him, bringing with it memories of soldiers on horseback, plinking away at a mass of meat he'd hugged instants before.

Pulling himself out of bed, the boy yelped at the sharp pain in his abdomen, like he'd been hit from the inside with a hammer. A hunched, bearded man with receding hairline and hairs poking out of his nostrils and ears, rushed to Oda's side.

"Be still, boy!" Cried the medicae, overly upset for some reason, "You cracked some ribs… All of them… I mended the bones but you mustn't put any strain on them."

The child blinked in confusion, "What?"

"You broke your chest. Lie down."

"Okay…" He obeyed, but kept himself propped on one elbow, "Where is my father."

The medicae hesitated, then seemed to understand something.

He was about to end the conversation, but decided against keeping the boy in the dark, as it would only foster rebellion, "Tending to your brother, the first lady's death disturbed the poor boy greatly."

"She's dead?" He winced, in pain rather than shock, "What happened?"

The old man strode over to his desk, returning to his discarded paperwork. "You happened, I assume… What is your name, boy?"

"Oda, Kuan Oda." The child leaned back in his bed, doing his best not to pay any mind to the mechanical octupus dangling overhead, the multitude of skulls decorating the room or the fact his healer had four arms, all mechanical.

A minute passed in uneasy silence, then another. Finally, the old man put down his quill and sighed."I am a member of the machine cult." Explained the priest, having noticed the boy's constant attention to his many arms.

"I did not mean to offend." Oda spoke in a tense breath, forcing his gaze off the synthetic limbs and onto the ceiling.

"You did not. Most newcomers to the palace will resort to either violence or hysteria when they first meet me, I appreciate your restraint, boy. Ask any question you like."

Oda looked around the room, frowning, then down at his chest. "What am I wearing?"

"A gown. You were half naked when we found you, except for some shorts and a life jacket. They were destroyed during diagnosis."

"Will I need to wear these all the time?" He tugged at the black and silver gowns in disgust, prompting a short chuckle from the tech priest.

"No, boy, I suspect the governor will assign you a personal tailor… Or headsman." The medicae had meant that last comment as a joke, but as he said the words, realised how likely an outcome that really was. All trace of humor melted from his face and Oda, seeing the man's grave expression, opted to huddle his shivering body under the itchy covers.

His retreat did not last long, however. Announced only by heavy footsteps and the whisper of paper walls sliding away, Kai Kué Lao, the Governor's son, erupted in the room, followed a moment later by his father.

"Where is the lying scum!?" Cried the teenage boy, glaring at the medicae. The old tech priest did not reply, but glanced towards the bed, opposite his desk, and Kai followed his gaze.

Pulling Oda out of from under the cover, despite the medicae's protests. "What did you tell him?! You piece of skak, what did you tell my father?!"

The priest threw his master a pleading look, but Jin remained silent. Better this issue be resolved now than allowed to fester for years.

"I don't know," cried young Oda, frightened into tears, but not yet losing his composure, in spite of Kai's superior size and strength, "I don't understand what's going on."

Kai shoved the boy away, into a wheeled console that went spinning into the wall and then back towards the boys, Oda now on his back, struggling for breath as he clutched his broken ribs.

"Boy!" Jin barked, looking at Oda, though Kai appeared just as startled, "Did your mother not teach you to fight?"

Kai's eyes went wide, "Father?" But Oda only nodded, sheepishly.

Jin strode up to them, shoved Kai on the forehead, stumbling the boy three paces back, while pulling Oda up by the collar. He spared them not more attention and merely kicked the bed into a corner, to clear up enough space for what he had in mind. "Then show me." Was all he said as he walked up to the medicae's desk.

Kai took a high stance, fists tight and his weight on his hind leg. A defensive stance.

Oda swallowed with difficulty and took on a very similar stance, but with his palms open and weight evenly distributed between both legs.

Kai struck first, a leaping kick aimed to his little brother's chin. Oda spun gracefully out of the way, as would a ballet dancer, then dropped back to a low stance, this time with his fingers pinched, as though he was pulling on invisible strings.

Kai was not impressed, he struck with a straight punch, slower than ordinary, and Oda easily dodged, the fist flying millimeters from his face, only for his big brother to halt the punch and bring his elbow back hard into the back of Oda's head, sending the boy rolling limply on the hardwood floor.

His victory was short lived, however, as Kai soon found he could no longer move the left side of his body. The muscles tensed up slowly, pulsing with cramps from toes to the tip of his fingers.

As he Collapsed in a trembling heap, right by his little brother, Kai could do nothing but groan and curse. "What did you do?!" He moaned out as the other boy tried to clear his vision.

"You know that tickling spot on your ribs?" Breathed Oda, still dizzy. "Mother always said if you hit it just right, it will end any fight instantly." He reached up to Kai's neck, with the thumb on his shoulder and index finger on his jugular, Oda applied light pressure and unlocked his brother's _chi_.

"Acupunctor, dancer, assassin," spoke Jin as he walked up to them, "Shimia was a fascinating woman."

"Yet you had her killed." Spat the boy, bracing himself for another blow. It did not come.

Jin looked somber as he loomed over Oda, "I will not plead with you, boy. I offer you a place in my court, as my son, but what happened to your mother, why it happened, is not for you to question, and we will not speak of this again…" He turned to Kai, "As for you, you'll show your brother the respect your blood is due; the next time a fight breaks out, it will be to the death."

The boy rolled onto his feet and kneeled, forehead to the floor, "Yes, father."

Oda did no such thing, so Jin growled at him, as a wolf would, and the boy reluctantly copied his brother's stance, "Yes, father."

"What name has your mother given you, boy?" Jin asked, waving the boys up and turning away once they did.

"Oda."

His sons in tow, the Governor kept speaking as they made their way through the palace basement, walking slowly, "An old noble name from Terra. You resided in the monastery, with the Lamenters, yes?"

"Yes, Sire…"

Jin snapped around, "Father. You are not to address me as anything but father or Jin." With a nod from Oda, the governor resumed his march, "Have the destitute serfs told you of the Imperium's history, of Wosun's?"

Oda nodded and said "We are descended from a commonwealth of nations east of the old continent. Warp travel to this cluster is unreliable…"

"Yes, yes, I was not asking for a history class. Clearly your mother taught you restraint, to fight within the chi, but what of the cheng?"

Oda glanced at Kai, who groaned and whispered, "Sneaking around versus breaking stuff."

"Mother only taught me to protect myself, most of our time was spent on ancient texts…"

With a disgruntled sigh, Jin asked, "What were those texts about?"

The boy gave this question a moment of consideration, "War, discipline, philosophy…" After a pause, which he spent trying to figure out a diplomatic way to qualify the Imperium's educational material, "The newest ones…"

"Were nothing but cheap propaganda, am I right? _Prayer solves everything and if it doesn't, you're not praying hard enough_."

Kai scoffed, but Oda kept quiet, stunned that his father would so readily criticise the teachings of His representatives.

"Don't worry, boy," Jin laughed, "the Wosun archives predate the Imperium, they even predate the Dark Ages, I have an army of scholars who are eager to hammer these millenias of wisdom into your head, as they did every members of our family… You will hate it, as did every member of our family, but it is a blessing few in this world receive."

Kai threw his little brother an evil glance, rubbing a bruised wrist in silence.


End file.
